


Embrace Tranquility

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, So much fluff., touch-starved genji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 00:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: In which Genji needs a hug and Zenyatta beats him to the punch





	Embrace Tranquility

**Author's Note:**

> a good title.

Sometimes people would ask Zenyatta how, exactly, it was that an Omnic “meditates.”

Zenyatta would generally return the question, asking how it was that humans meditated, as he had never been one before. It didn’t always go well--there weren’t many people that appreciated the irony, but he, at least, found it amusing, and often that was his only goal.

But on the off chance that someone appreciated the irony, and nevertheless offered him a reasonable description of human meditation (he was curious, after all), he would honor them with a response.

There were many non-critical functions being run in an Omnic’s system at any given moment, different processors juggling multitudes of tasks and bussing data back and forth between each other, to and from more peripheral parts of their bodies, analysing input from every sensor in the vast network within them. All of these were background tasks, of course, simply gathering and processing data for the use of the main, decision-making program when needed.

To meditate, one simply needed to focus their processing away from these inputs, effectively separating oneself from the outside world and focusing, instead, on inner processes that may have been neglected due to time, available space, or energy. Though inputs from one’s environment were useful, often Earthly data took up more of the system than was strictly needed.

Though there were always times when input from one’s environment demanded to be paid attention to. When one was in danger, for instance, or neglecting one’s own physical needs.

Or when one had a particularly fidgety student.

Zenyatta slowly shifted his energies into processing visual input once more, and then turned towards Genji, who had suddenly stopped shifting at Zenyatta’s movement.

“Is there something that is troubling you, my student?” he asked, prodding more directly than he might with someone he was less familiar with.

“No, master. I apologize,” Genji answered, sitting up straighter, as if straining his posture would help him focus. “I will not allow my mind to wander again.”

Zenyatta hummed in acknowledgement and contemplation. “There is no need to apologize,” he said, simply. “Often there are reasons certain thoughts demand our attention.”

Genji didn’t respond, and Zenyatta allowed him his silence. If Genji was willing to speak on this subject, perhaps patience would draw it out of him.

He took one of his orbs and held it above his hand, spinning it absentmindedly, leaving himself open to interaction rather than returning to his meditation.

It took a long stretch of silence, but eventually his efforts paid off. Genji shifted, his shoulders falling once again as he let out a deep breath.

“I have told you before of my youth,” he started, uncertainty clear in his voice. “I was known to...sleep around.”

Zenyatta nodded, humming in neutral acknowledgement.

“I find myself missing those days. But I do not think it is the promiscuity that I am nostalgic for.” His head tilted as his covered face focused its sight somewhere else. “Perhaps...I have not had human contact for quite some time.”

There was a note of shame in his voice. Zenyatta stayed quiet for a moment to see if there was anything else his student had to say, and finding that there was not, formulated his response.

“I have heard that physical contact is an important aspect of human health,” he said. “If you believe that to be true, then you have every reason to seek it out. A responsibility, I believe.”

Genji nodded. “Thank you, master,” he said. Then, after a moment, “I am...not sure how I would. My appearance...” he trailed off, tilting his head down. Zenyatta knew that Genji had come to be mostly comfortable in his own body, but that didn’t always affect how others saw him. “Omnic” had become an accepted category of beings, wherever that was placed in relation to “Human,” but someone who was in between those two, as Genji saw himself, was not so easily accepted.

“It is unfortunate that others see that as an obstacle.” He returned his orb to the circle around his neck, and turned towards Genji. “In this matter, you are more the master than I. But if there is anything I can do to help you, you need only ask.”

Genji nodded. “Thank you,” he said again. It sounded like his mind had wandered off somewhere else. He was still worrying, then.

There was likely nothing Zenyatta could do about that. The mind often needed time to calm itself, even after the situation was resolved.

Still, he found he had more to say.

“If you think my physical presence will be any consolation, I am willing to offer that, as well.”

Genji fell silent at this. Zenyatta watched him for a moment longer, before returning to his meditation pose, nevertheless listening closely.

“It may,” came the quiet response.

Zenyatta nodded, and allowed the conversation to end.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, he waited in their usual spot to meet up for their walk. He was there first, this time--hopefully that meant that Genji had gotten a sufficient night’s rest.

“Good morning, Genji,” he greeted, when his student appeared after a brief few minutes of waiting. He then held his arms out towards him, in a manner that he was assured was inviting of a hug.

Genji stared at him. Zenyatta waited, and was gratified when Genji slowly stepped over and wrapped his arms around him tentatively. Zenyatta mirrored the action, taking care to not press any harsh edges against him, and Genji’s uncertainty disappeared, grip tightening as he bowed his head to rest against Zenyatta’s shoulder.

“Good morning, master,” he said, quietly.

The sensation was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, especially with how obvious it was that he was providing Genji a great comfort. He ran his hand along Genji’s back until his student was ready to let go, loosening his grip and stepping away.

Zenyatta allowed his hand to linger briefly on Genji’s arm before turning and beginning their walk. Genji followed shortly after, and if he was not mistaken, there was a note of joy to his gait.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That night they sat together quietly as Genji prepared tea for himself. It was not meditation, as many people saw it, but Zenyatta found it had a similar effect, to simply be in the presence of another one trusted so wholly.

Once Genji had finished, he generally cleaned up what little he had gotten out before excusing himself, leaving Zenyatta to his own thoughts. But not so tonight. Instead he took his place next to Zenyatta again, fidgeting for a moment before saying, “Goodnight, master.”

Zenyatta looked over at him, wondering about the change in routine, until Genji held his arms out to him.

Ah. Yes, of course.

He leaned over and hugged him, the embrace not lasting as long this time as Genji soon stood up once more.

“Goodnight, my student,” Zenyatta said. “I hope you rest well.”

Genji nodded, and left.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

These greetings integrated themselves into their day easily, Zenyatta offering an embrace every morning, Genji every night. The sense of balance appealed to him greatly, and Genji was much more focused during their meditation--especially when Zenyatta decided to sit just close enough to him to rest their knees together. It seemed his student had a true need for contact. It was gratifying to, for once, have a problem so easily solved.

Too easily solved, it seemed.

This routine saw Genji almost miraculously recovered for the space of one week, and then his distractions began again the next.

This was not concerning on its own. Moods had their way of coming and going like waves, and he would not expect anyone to be so easily happy--especially one who had gone through as much as Genji. However, he was not only growing distracted, but distant from Zenyatta’s touch, something that he greeted so readily just days before.

First he took to sitting further away during meditation. Then, one night, rather than their newfound routine, Genji had instead stood up abruptly, bowing as he bade Zenyatta goodnight, and excused himself.

Zenyatta sat there for another hour, staring out the window, trying to organize his puzzled thoughts.

What had gone wrong?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Genji appeared the next morning for their walk and preemptively avoided contact by greeting Zenyatta first, quickly turning to walk down their usual route. Zenyatta followed him, forcing Genji’s pace to slow by taking slower steps himself.

Genji’s mask remained resolutely facing the ground.

“What is troubling you, my student?” Zenyatta asked, tilting his head in question.

There was no use in pretending he was not troubled, at least, so he did not try to deny it.

“I...” he started, crossing his arms. “I believe I have much to consider.”

“Hm,” went Zenyatta, a simple acknowledgement in the absence of facial expression.

“I am not yet ready to speak on it.”

He nodded, slowly. “As always, my guidance is merely an offer, not a requirement.”

“Thank you, master.”

They continued their walk in silence.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The rest of their day continued in silence, as well. And the one after that. Genji went through the motions of what he still referred to as his training, meditating and carrying out certain obligations to the monastery--it was his turn to sweep the steps, after all--but was continuously deep in thought. Zenyatta passed by him multiple times, curiosity motivating him, but was never overtly acknowledged, though he did not miss the tightness in Genji’s shoulders.

It seemed he himself was a source of Genji’s discomfort. This was upsetting, in turn, but he did not wish to aggravate the problem.

Though did the solution lie in allowing him his space, or confronting and disproving that discomfort?

Zenyatta sighed to himself, the sound wholly adopted from human expression. It was foolish, he supposed, to expect hugs to bring Genji happiness. But he had been so enjoying that foolishness.

He was beginning to miss Genji’s voice.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He did not show up to their morning walk.

Zenyatta stood there, then sat there, for half an hour past their designated time, before giving up, sadness weighing on his shoulders as he stood.

He was certain Genji was not intending to upset him so. He was not certain that Genji even knew how this was affecting him.

He resolved to tell him.

However, he proved difficult to locate. Unlike the day before, he did not show up to perform his duties (Zenyatta more than happily covered for him, as the actions were meditative in themselves), and did not appear even for his usual meals. This was the most worrying of them all. It was some indicator of Genji falling back into his old habits, and Zenyatta wished to avoid that at all costs.

When the sun began to set that evening, he finally went to Genji’s small room and knocked on the door. There was stillness inside, but eventually the door opened without warning, swinging outwards a sparse few inches.

Genji’s expressionless mask stared at him through the gap.

“Genji,” Zenyatta greeted. “I wished to tell you goodnight. I missed your presence today.”

The only response was a terse nod, his face remaining focused downwards at the end of it.

Zenyatta waited for a long moment, giving Genji a chance to speak.

When he didn’t take it, Zenyatta simply nodded in return. “Sleep well,” he said, and then turned away.

“Master.”

He turned back around. “Yes?” he answered, in the most encouraging tone he had available to him.

Genji’s eyes, as far as he could tell, were still focused on the ground. “I apologize,” he said, a strained quality to his voice. “I did not mean to worry you.”

“You are forgiven.” He watched him carefully before continuing. “I wish to give you room to consider this on your own, but...I do worry. If there is anything at all I can help you with...”

“I understand,” Genji said, doubtless out of habit. “But I...” he fell quiet as he considered his words, though he did finally open the door further, gripping the edge. “I am worried that I will ask more of you than you are willing to give.”

“There is no harm in asking.” He tilted his head, considering. “Are you concerned that I will react harshly? I apologize if I have given you reason to believe I would.”

“No, master,” he answered. “I simply...” His shoulders fell, and he pulled the door closed the barest amount. “May I...ask your thoughts on...” his voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “Omnic-human relationships?”

“Ah,” went Zenyatta, surprised. Was that the source of Genji’s worry? Delight rose in him, manifesting in a laugh. “ _ Genji _ ,” he said, fondness emanating from his voice. He placed his hand on Genji’s, finally coaxing him into letting go and allowing the door to swing open. He enveloped Genji’s hand in both of his, hoping it would serve in place of a smile. “I believe love is a blessing that does not discriminate between omnic and human. Do you feel the same?”

“I do.”

“Then perhaps now is the right time to tell you that I have been enamoured with you for some time.”

The sudden stiffness of Genji’s spine showed the surprise that his mask did not.

“Master!”

He laughed once more, patting Genji’s hand. “I apologize for not telling you sooner, I was simply too content with our relationship as it stood. However, I would not be opposed if you wished to alter it.”

“I...” He stood there for a moment longer, silent, before removing his hand from Zenyatta’s in order to step forward, enveloping him in a hug.

Zenyatta sighed happily, wrapping his arms around Genji.

“I had missed this, dear one.”

Genji’s grip tightened at the endearment. “Then I will never let you go.”

So Zenyatta made himself comfortable in Genji’s grip, tilting his head against his mask.

An eternity in that moment would not have been difficult to bear.


End file.
